The hungry year [microform]

THE HUNGRY YEAR.

Parr I.

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Except their honour, and the conscious pride
Of duty done to country and to king.
Broad lands, ancestral homes, the gathered wealth
Of patient toil and self-denying years
r ~ Were confiscate and lost ; for they hal been
The salt and savor of the land ; trained up
In hononr, loyalty, and fear of God.
The wine upon the lees, decanted when
They left their native soil, with sword-belts drawn
The tighter; while the women only, wept
At thought of o'd firesides no longer theirs ; i
At household treasures reft, and all the land
Upset, and ruled by rebels to the King,

| | | AUTUMN. | 4

_ Not drooping like poor fugitives, they came pee!
In exodus to our Canadian wilds ;
_... But full of heart and hepe, with heads erect ~~ ie
And fearless eyes, victorious in defeat.— ie
_ With thousand toils they forced theirdevious way _

Through the great wilderness of silent woods

THE HUNGRY YEAR.

enced ome arsine sain,

That gloomed o'er lake and stream ; till higher rose
The northern star above the broad ‘Ansa Wh
Of half a continent, stil theirs to hold,

Defend, and keep forever as their own ;

Their own and England's, to the end of time.

The virgin forests, carpeted with leaves

Of many autumne fallen, crisp and sear,

Put on their woodland state; while overhead
Green scas of foliage rcared a welcome home
To the proud exiles, who for empire fought,

And kept, though losing much, this northern land

A refuge and defence for all who love
The broader freedom of a commonwealth,
Which wears upon its head a kingly crown.

Our great Canadian woods of mighty trees,
Proud oaks and pines, that grew for centuries
King's gifts upon the exiles were bestowed.

‘Ten thousand homes were planted ; and each one,
With axe, and fire, aud mutual help, made war
Against the wilderness, and smote it down.

Into the opencd glades, unlit before,

Since forests grew or rivers ran, there leaped

The sun’s bright rays, creative heat and light,
Waking to life the buried seeds that slept

Since Time's beginning, in the earth’s dark womb.

The tender grass sprang up, no man knew how ;
€ daisies’ eyes unclosed ; wild strawberries
tee white as hoar-frost on the slopes—and sweet
The violets perfumed the evening air ;
The nodding clover grew up everywhere, —
The trailing rasp, the trefoil’s yellow cup
Sparkled with dew drops ; while the humming bees
And birds and butterflies, unseen before,
Found out the sunny spots and came in throngs.

But earth is man’s own shadow, say the wise,
As wisdom’s secrets are two-fold ; and each
Responds to other, both in good and ill—

A crescent thought will one day orb to full,
The ground, uncovered by the woodman's axe,
Burst into bloom; but with the tender grass

_ And pretty violets, came up thedovk, =

The thistle, fennel, mullén, and a crowd

__ OF noisome weeds, that with the gontlef flowers _

Struggled for mASATys till the plou,

THE HUNGRY YRAR. 5

——

But long and arduous were their labours ere

The rugged fields produced enough for all—

(For thousands came ere hundreds could be fed)
The scanty harvests, gleaned to their laet ear,
Sufficed not yet. Men hungered for their bread
Before it grew, yet cheerful bore the hard,

Coarse fare and russet yarb of pioneers ;—

In the great wonds content to build a home

And commonwealth, where they could live secure
A life of honour, loyalty, and peace.

The century's last decade set in with signs

Of coming wrath over the forest land. — ‘
The sun and moon alternate rose and set,
Red, dry, and fiery, in a rainless sky ;

And month succeeded month of parching drouth,

That ushered in the gaunt and hungry year,—

The hungry year whose name still haunts the land
With memories of famine and of death!

Corn failed, and fruit and herb. The tender grass
Fell into dus‘. Trees died like sentient things,
And stood wrapped in their shrouds of withered leaves,
That rustled weirdly round them, sear and dead.
From springs and brooks, no morning mist arose ;
The water vanished ; and a brazen sky ;
Glowed hot and sullen through the pall of smoke
That rose from burning forests, far and near.
The starving cattle died, looking at man:
With dumb reproach, as if the blame were his, —
Perhaps it was ; but man looked up to heaven
In stern-lipped silence, or in earnest prayer
Besought relief of God, or, in despair,
Invoked the fiercest storms from tropic seas
To quench the éarth with rain, and loose the claws ;
And teeth of famine from the scorching land.

Slowly the months rolled round on fiery wheels ; i
The savage year relented no‘, nor shut
Its glaring eye, till all things perished,—food
For present, seed for future use were gone.
‘¢ All swallowed up,” the starving Indian said,
«« By the great serpent of the Chenonda
| areeaee. - ‘Phat underlies the ground and sucks ix dry.” -
_ While equally perplexed at. such distress, 8
Despite his better knowledge,—‘ Why is this?”
_ The white man asked and pondered ; but in vain.
~ ‘Where came no quick response, Nature ie deaf —

ri

. ‘THE HUNGRY YEAR,

And voiceless both, to satisfy the heart
That needs a deeper answer than she gives.
And till we seek for light of God alone,
Putting ourself aside and i] we know, — Bibs 4
Leurning the truth in His way, not our own, : mie
The mystery of mysteries remaineg,

Sin, sorrow, death ; inexplicable ! were

There not beyond the vail a power of love ;

God in the human, infinitely like,

Who bore our pains himself, as if to show

He cannot, without suffering, pluck away

The rooted sin that tangles in the heart,

Like tares with wheat. Permissive love, that lets

Them grow together for a troubled space,

Till ripe for harvest. Love trium phant, when :
‘The Reaper comes, and life is winnowed clean

Of its base weeds, and all that’s good and true ~

In human souls is garnered up by Him,
Till His vast purposes are all fulfilied.

—tP1——

Part II.

Upon the banks of sedgy Chenonda, *

With sycamores and giant elm trees fringed,
Backed by unbroken forests, far from hail
Of friends’ and neighbours’ help in time of need,
A house of massive logs, witb open porch
O’errun with vines and creepers, fronted full
Upon the quiet stream, that, sleeping, lay :

Hot in the noontide sun. A well, with sweep
Long as the yard of a felucca, stood

Unused and dry ; its gluring stones aglow.

Some fields of tillage, rough wi.h undrawn roots
And stumps of trees, extended to the woo
That, like a wall, surrounded every side.
Hovels for cattle that were nowhere seen,
Stood empty near the house ; nor corn, nor grass,
és Nor food for man or beast was visible—
The famine for a year had scourged the land !

Upon the river-bank a | ark canoe —

Just touched the shore with its recurving prow. ee
A woman's shawl and rustic basket lay == es

a Beneath the paddle, thrown in haste aside es

Aske ae a eal es ‘By one who came across the Chencnda — Seiad Dain: ae o a oe ESE neal Tea ce oe

. THE HUNGRY YEAR. : if
With food and tidings for the dying man

Who lay witbin the » unconscious all

Of help, or her who Goreciach it. A tall man ;

Not young indeed, sun-browned and scarred with wounds,
Received in battle fighting for his King. _

His features, worn and haggard, were refined

By intellect and noble purposes

Which beautify the looks as naught else can,

And give the impress of a gentleman.

A face it was'of trath and courage, one

To trust your life to in your hour of need ;

But twitching now in pain, with eyes that looked
Enlarged by hunger, as of one who sought

For bread he could not find ; and so gave up

To plead with God for life, and waited death.

He lay, and in his eyes a far-off gaze

Saw things invisible to other's ken. -

_ Delirious words dropped from his fevered lips
‘As in a dream of bygone happiness,

That went and came like ripples on a pool,
Where eddying winds blow fitful to and fro—
A hunger feast of fantasy and love

That haunts the starving with illusive joys.
And one dear name repeated as in prayer,
Clung to his lips and would not leave them ;' nay,
Uuspoken, one might see it syllabled

In sign and proof of his undying love.

senest manna

Beside his couch, in pazsionate despair,

A woman knelt, clasping his hands in hers,
With kisses and endearing words, who bade
Him rouse to hope of life, for she had brought
The food for lack of which he dying lay.

Tall, lithe, and blooming ere the hungry year
Had wasted her to shadow of herself,

She still was beautiful. A lady born

And nurtured in the old colonial days ;

OF graceful mien, gentle in word and deed,
As well became a daughter of the time

When honour was no byword, and the men
Were outdone by the women of their kin—
Who spurned the name of rebel as a stain ;
And kissed their sons and sent them to the war
To serve the King with honour, or to die.

- Her long black-hair, shook loose upon her neck, ==
Was turning grey with sorrow at the pangs
Of those she loved and could not help. Her eyes

& THE HUNGRY YEAR,

Were full of pity infinite and tears ;
With courage in them to enqvunter aught :
Toil, pain, or death, for sake of one she loved,

Amid the rage of famine and of fire,

That spreed a consternation through the land,

It had been rumoured : Food was on the way

As fast as oar and sail could speed it on |

‘From far Quebec to Frontenac,” they said,

“King’s ships and forts gave up the half their stores ;
Batteaux were coming laden ; while the Prince
Himself accompanied, to cheer them on !

The news flew swiftly—was itself a feast,
Z Gave strength and courage to the famished land.

Fresh tidings followed. One day guns were fired
And flags displayed all over Newark town.
The people went in crowds to see the Prince—
Their royal Edward, who had come in haste
To succour and sonsole in their distress

. The loyal subjects of his sire, the King.

The loving wife upon the Chenonda
Had heard the welcome news—in time, she hoped,
To save her husband, overwrought with toil
In fighting fire among the burning woods,
And prostrated with hunger, till he lay
Helpless and hopeless, drawing nigh tu death.
With woman's energy, that’s born of love,
O'erpowering all her weakness, she resolved
To save her husband’s life or for him die.
With tearful kisses and with fond adieux
And many prayers, she left him in the charge
OF one old faithful servant, born a slave,
And now a freedman in his master’s house,
. And traced with desperate steps the trackless woods
And smoking morasses, that lay between
- Her forest home and Newark’s distant town,
To buy, not beg, the bread for which they starved.

She reached the town ; befriended everywhere-—
For each one knew all others in those days
Of frank companionship and thutual aid—
She saw the Prinee, the flower of courtesy,
Who listened t6 her tale, which, ere half told,
Seen ener a aes Prompt order went to grant beyond her prayer,
oe aD And bread and wine, and ull things nceded else,
~ By messengers wero sentto Chenonda. = = =———
A royal gift, bestowed with royal grace,

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THE HUNGRY YRAR. 9

With words of kindest sympathy and cheer,
Which of all gifts are those men hold most dear.

The Prince knew well, of no one but the King,
Or in his name, would these proud loyalists
Receive a gift. ‘* But this,” he earnest said,
‘* Was not a gift, but royal debt and due

The King owed every man who had been true
To his allegiance ; and owed most to those
Who fought to keep unbroken all the orb

- Of England’s empire, rounded like the world.”

With fit and grateful words she thanked the prince,
And took his gift and royal message, fall

Of gentlest sympathy for their distress, —

Nor rested longer than the firat pale streak

Of morn upon th’ horizon rose, e¥e she

Set out for home, with treasure more than gold :
Bread and the Prince’s message, and returned

The way she came, outstripping, in her haste,

The messengers who followed in her track.

She reached at noon her home on Chenonda,

Too late, alas! for one had outstripped her !
Death, like a phantom, had run.on before

And entered first, and smit down whom he would !

Their faithful servant lay upon the ground,

Dead in his master’s service ; worn end spent

With hunger, watching, sickness, and a care,
Not for himself, but those he loved and served, —
A faithful man and loyal to the last,

And yet a sadder sight did meet her when,

Upon the couch, she saw ber husband lie,

All fever flushed and dying, gazing wild

With open eyes that saw her not ; and mind
That wandered crazily o’er thousand themes ;
And her, the theme of themes, unrecognized !
She threw herself upon her knees, nor felt

The stones that bruised her as she shrieked, and gazed
With startled eyes, and wildly called his name ;
Who, deaf to her appeals, talked heedless oa,

In his delirium, with words that pierced

The inmost memories of her woman’s heart,

‘“‘Q Minne! Minne mine! Where are you, love ?
Come to me, you or none!” he dreaming said,

__ Unconscious of ber presence, or the haud — -

That smoothed his hair, or lips that kissed his heat
‘'0, Minne mine { what hinders wa to-day

THE HUNGRY YEAR.

" : : MEV ha ¥ é

To climb the mountain-summit through the broad
Autumnal forest, dropping leaves of gold

’ And scarlet on our heads as we go on }.”

° LY

if

His fevered thoughts strayed back to antumn days

When he had wooed his lovely bride ; the flower

Of Shenandoah—all gentleness and grace,

When, blushing with the consciousness of love,

She gave her willing hand and pledged her troth .

One day beneath the spreading maple trees ;

Whose leaves were flushed with crimgon, like her cheek, .
And life, that day for them, seemed first begun !

‘*O, Minne mine ! my beautiful and true !”
She listened to the unforgotten words,

While grief and terror mingled with the joy
That used to greet their memory in her heart.
‘* Loving ant loved, each one in other blest,
To-morrow is our happy wedding-day !

The oriols and blackbirds ‘gaily sing,

Mad with delight, upon the golden boughs,
Their song of songs, To-morrow is the day !
To-morrow ! O, my love! I hear a chime

Of silver beils in heaven, ringing clear ;
To-morrow is theit happy wedding-day !”

His words shot straight as arrows, through and through ;
The sweetest recollection of the past

That nestled in her heart and, fed with love,
Lived there encaged, her bosom’s bird ; now rent,
Displumed and bleeding, ‘neath the shaft of death
Her tears fell hot and thick, and oft she kissed
The paliid cheek and pressed the hand upled

Her to the mountain-top, and held her there

In dalliance sweet and fond affection’s thrall ;
While the broad world beneath them opened wide
Its fairest treasures to their raptured eyes.

Soft Indian summer floated in the air,

Like smoke of incense, o’er the dreamy woods ;

So still, one only heard the dropping leaves ee :
Of forests turned to crimson, brown, and gold,

__In myriad tints, to craze a painter's eye.

For Nature's alchemy, transmuting all,’ ‘
Gilded the earth with glamont, rich and rare, —_

Asif to give the eye, weary of this,

A transient ylimpse of fairer worlds to be.

‘She wept and listened as he still spake on:
‘Thank God for autumn days! 0, Minne mine !

THE HUNGRY YEAR.

In autumn we were wed, in autumn came

Our love’s fruition, when our babe was born.

In autumn, when the laden orchard trees
Dropped ripest apples, rueset, red, and green ;
And golden peaches lingered past their time :
And richest flowers of brown October bloomed.:
The gentian blue, crysanthema of snow,
And purple dahlias ; flowers that bloomed again
A year away, with amaranths, to strew

The grave of cur young hope—the first and last—
Who died enfolded in thy tender arms,”

She listened, with a look of wan despair,

As he recalled their early bliss, We drink

With bitterness the tale of former joys

Retold in misery. Yet, drink we still,

Kissing the chalice which we know will kill !

She watched, consoled, repeated oft his name,

In hope of revognition ; but in vain.

No wandering syllable escaped his lips,

Though faint as dying breath ; but she divined

Its full intent, and with a woman's ken,

Saw that his love was perfect, to the core

Of inmost dreams, The thought with human touch

Let loose the tears surcharged her swollen heart.
_ «She wept and listened as he still spake on :

‘*O, Minne mine! in autun: , too, we lost
Our smooth-faced handsome boy ; our Raleigh brave, —
A stripling full of courage, and athirst
For honour in the service of the King.
He died in front of battle, by my side,
In that hot day we won at Germantown.
I bore him in my arms from ‘midst the dead
And buried him beneath the autumn leaves,

¢ In the still forest, by.a boulder stone. .
I took thee once to see it—all alone,
We two as one; and there we wept as none
But fathers, mothers weep o’er chiklren gone.”

Her heart was torn at mention of her boy,
So good, so dutiful, so early lost.

And for a moment a fair picture flashed

Up from the gulf of buried years. She saw
Him with his baby feet, as sea pearls pure, *
Essay, with awkward prettiness, to climb
Up to her knee and bosom to receive

A storm of kisses each time for reward,

12 THE HUNGRY YEAR.
Pema mrtee nari u nes ceo mmc iac tneamcnccunsmtantonmen ter eee OE
He ceased to speak and breathed with fainter breath,
Like one forspent, and losing hold of life ;
His hand grasped tightly hers, as if it were
His last sheet-anchor in the sands, that failed
To hold his bark amid the storm of death.

Part Il.

The bunger fever left him ; and he lay

Awake, resigned and calm, to meet the end,

He knew was nigh, but feared not, save for her
Whose yearning eyes bent over him with love

And pity infinite. His noble face

Had brightened with a gleam of holy light,

That sometimes shines in death, to cheer the gloom
Of that dark valley of the shadow, when

Our hour is come ; when from the couch of pain
We must descend and go, each one alone,—
Alone—to travel on a darksome road

We know not; but, when found, a king's highway !
Broad and well beaten! None may err therein !
Made for all men to travel ; and not hard

For those unburthened and who humbly take

The staff God offers all, to ease the way

Aud lead us wondering to the vast beyond.

The ‘‘ Help of God” is Death's strong angel called,
Who brings deliverance from this world of care ;
Azrael, who casts his sombre mantle off

Upon the threshold ; and in robes of white, |

With loving smiles, will lead us on and on,

Out of the darksome valley to the hills,

Where shines eternal day for evermore !

He lay and looked at her, remembering
The things had happened watil all was clear.
‘*O, Minne mine !” he marmured, ‘‘I have been
Unconscious of thy presence and return !
The fever overmastered me, and grief,
When our old servant died, with none to aid ;
And I fell on my ¢ ‘uch an@ Knew no more,
But some one said to-day, or did I dream ?
The woods are all ablaze and roofed with fire
Up Chenonda, and down the deep ravine,
The marshes, dried like tinder, catch the flames; ~
The very earth is burning at the roots,
While savage beasts tumultuous, rush and roar

THE HUNGRY YEAR. ‘ 13
Tee inna ag net nn Gar st RANNO BI MOLT E OTT AAV oN ARNE HUST RREORTEL ODES AOR LB RE NE

In rage and terror from their burning lairs !

How could I risk thee, love, to go alone

Amid such dangers as would daunt a man ?

To seek for help in Newark’s distant town,

Where haply help is not—or needed more

Than in our forests Everywhere, they say,

The iron grip of famine holds the Jand ;

And men have long since shared their household corn
To the last handful, and ther.’s nothing left !

She stooped and kissed him tenderly, with lips
That trembled in an ecstasy of fear, .
What might betoken all the signs she saw,—

Then told in broken accents how she sped :

‘*T care not though my feet were bruised or scorched
Treading the burning forests, if brought

Good news, my love, to thee, and help to all

The famished dwellers on the Chenonda !”

Then she recounted in his eager ear,

That drank her words as summer dust the rain,
How England’s Prince had come ! and Newark town
Was hung with flags; and cannon pealed salutes

To welcome him from old Niagara’s walls !

And she had seen the river margin thronged

With broad batteaux, all laden down with corn,
Brought by the Prince in haste, to help and save
The King’s true subjects in the forest land.

A gleam of joy across his features shone,

As when a sudden ray escapes the sun,

' Shot through a cloud rift in the wintry sky,
Athwart the old gray Mississaugua tower ;
Where it stands desolate, on guazd no more
Over Ontario's ever-changing sea.

“God bless the Prince!” he said, ‘‘’Tis princely done
To bring, not send the help we sorely need !

A gift is sweetest from the giver’s hand

When face to face we look and understand

The soul of kindness in it to the full.

And one may take King’s gifts and feel no shame,”
He said, to reconcile his manly pride :

To take a gift as alms from even him.

“*For he is ours and we in fealty his.

We hold this land of Engiand and the King
Though all the seven plagues around us cling |”
Then added, in a tone of fervent prayer:

‘* Bless we Prince Edward’s name for evermore {| ”

14 THE HUNGRY YEAR.
ta are

She told him of -his royai courtesy, >
And tender words of sympathy for him
And all the loyal people, doubly scourged
By fire and famine in their forest homes,
She told him of the messengers by her

, Outrun, but following in haste with food
To aid the dwellers on the Chenonda,—
While she had brov,sht » basket in her hand
For present need; until the men arrived
With waggon train and plenty for them all !

‘Thanks for God’s mercies!” said he, ‘ Thank the Prince
And thee, my love, for all that thou hast done! .

[ now can die content. The country’s saved |!

Content to die—except in leavinz thee.”

- He turned upon his couch and looked at her,
As if his heart were bursting with the thou’
‘0, Minne mine!” he whispered, ‘‘ bend thy ear
As thou didst in those happy autumn days
When I first claimed thy hand and all thy love,
As thou wert to me then, so be thou now !
For now a greater sorrow waits us both
all Than then, if possible, our mutual joy.
i Together we have lived our life of love
In perfect oneness. Now apart; one dead
One living, shall we love alway as now ?
I hear thee whisper yes, O Minne mine !
|| Then be it so; for there-is nought to.fear ;

be
See eee

Though fall between us the mysterious vail
Which hides from mortal eyes the life beyond, —
The vail that is not lifted till we die,”

Between those two that vail did never fall !

She heard, but only in her inward ear,

His dying whispers, as she speechless lay

Kneeling beside his couch ; nor marked that day

Had fad: d in the west and Night had come,

Bearing upon her shoulder, draped with cloud,

| The harvest moon, that made the very sky

About it black, so silver clear it shone.
The south wind rose. The smoke which filled the air
Far down upon th’ horizon rolled away; _
While shorn of radiance in the moonlight clear,

The stars looked blankly in'the porch and saw,

With eyes as pitiless as stony fate, -

A sight had melted human eyes to tears.

The rustling sedges on the river-side

Anema tee a A E Soin mana
Sa aa a AD eel CUE ee ao ae ey ee,

THE HUNGRY YEAR.
Alone made moan about-the couch of pain,
Now still forever,—all was silent else,—
. True man and loving woman—both were dead !

The Prince’s messengers came quickly ; but ~
Too late to save, and found them as they died,
With hand and cheek together,—one in death,
As their fair love had been but one in life,
The last sad victims of the Hungry Year.

Where sluggish Chenonda comes stealing round
The broken point, whose other side is lashed

By wild Niagara rushing madly by,

Afoam with rapids, to his leap below.

An ancient graveyard overlooks the p’ace

Of thunderous mists, which throb and rise and fall
In tones and undertones, from out the depths,
That never cease their wild, unearthly song.
Among the oldest stones, moss-grown and gray,

A rough-hewn block, half-sunken, weather-wern, |
Illegible, forgotten, may be found Le
By one who loves the memory’of the dead
Who, living, were the founders of the land.

It marks the spot where lies the mingled duat
Of two who perished in the Huagry Year.

: Few seek the spot. The world goes rushing by
The ancient landmarks of a nobler time, —
When men bore deep*the imprint of the law
Of duty, truth, and loyalty unstained,

i, Amid the quaking of a continent,

‘ Torn by the passions of an evil time,
They counted neither cost nor danger, apurned
Defections, treasons, spoils; but feared God,
Nor shamed of their allegiance to the King.
To keep the empire one in unity
And brotherhood of its imperial race, —
For that they nobly fought and bravely lost,
Where losing was to win a higher fame !
In building up our northern land to be
A vast dominion stretched from sea to sea, —
A land of labour, but of sure reward, —
A land of corn to feed the world withal,—
A land of life’s rich treasures, plenty, peace ;
Content and freedom, both to speak and do,
A land of men to rule with sober law
This part of Britain’s empire, next the heart
L»yal as were their fathers and as free! _

NraGara, Ontario, —
October, 1878.

* .
wig eee,

Cee ae ee